


Say what you like (I'll do what you want me to do)

by quietwandering



Category: Pet Shop Boys
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, chris is a cute vampire, neil has big feelings about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietwandering/pseuds/quietwandering
Summary: It's a reflex, just a reflex
Relationships: Chris Lowe/Neil Tennant
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! I'm so excited to share this with you all. This is completely finished at about 15k words, but I'm posting it in parts to make editing more manageable and to try to ensure the tone is consistent. I should have it all up in a couple of days
> 
> Of course I have to say thank you to coffeecakelatte for inspiring me so greatly. Thank you for being you.
> 
> Title is [Vampires](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OeMhqqICGEU) by Pet Shop Boys

_EnThrall._

Neil stood across the street, deep in thought, and watched the club's red neon sign flicker intermittently. A bouncer came out from the gray steel doors at half past 9, stomped up the stairs, and shouted for everyone to back up and form an actual line (" _or else not a bloody one of you is gettin' in_ "). Everyone was dressed in ripped leather vests with their hair dyed jet black - though some of the girls had shaved everything off. Even their eyebrows.

EnThrall was one of those clubs where everyone knew what went on inside but no one would admit to having visited for fear of becoming a social pariah. Neil first heard about the place a few weeks ago when a coworker had called in sick - the ladies at the front desk had crowed about it the whole morning to one another, filing their nails and smacking their gum: “ _I heard he’s been, at...y’know. Oh! Say it a little louder, would you? They really shouldn’t let someone like that work here._ _Absolutely disgusting_.” 

Fascinated, Neil went into his typical spiral of journalistic obsession to find out all he could. It had to be something perverse, he reasoned, and, after he’d flipped through countless skin mags and escort ads, he found an answer printed at the back of some rather raunchy personals: ‘ _Looking to put a little BITE into your fantasy? EnThrall_.’ Emblazoned beneath was a blurry image of some vampire fangs, outstretched and bloody. Neil had ripped the ad out for reference and tossed everything else in the bin.

He had trouble finding the address at first, the place wasn't exactly listed in any phone books, but he'd gotten a street name from the advertisement agency that printed the personals. It didn't really take him long to find the place from that point - the raucous crowd could be seen half a block away. All Neil needed to do to finish the investigation would be to go inside, maybe do some interviews, but he just... _couldn't_ for some infuriating reason.

For nearly two weeks, Neil had made every attempt to coax himself across the street and into the queue. He’d bring his notebook, his tape recorder. He'd practice what questions to ask before he left the house. He’d sit at his desk and endlessly draft the feature article - with a doodle of that neon sign top center and a little vampire sketched for an insert in the right margin - but there were a hundred balled up sheets of paper in the bin, and he was no closer to finishing the piece then when he started.

He initially wanted to believe that going inside could tarnish his reputation as a writer but writers weren’t always meant to pen fairy tales and fantasies. A journalist had to be willing to push the boundaries of their craft, no matter the cost, but Neil was far too aware that his interest in the club wasn't always...professional, exactly.

He'd had always had a strange predilection about vampires. Their rarity in society made them an enigma, a mystery, and he’d spent many of his teenage years trying to unravel it all. When did the shift between legend and reality begin? No one seemed to know. There had been rumors, an occasional headline, stating that someone somewhere had encountered something, but overtime their existence among the throngs of humanity had become accepted without rhyme or reason. It was maddening to Neil - who much preferred the world of concrete facts and absolute certainties.

Now, in a dreadful part of the East End, stood a club where you might get to encounter one of the undead and be whisked away as a midnight snack. The entire situation seemed absurd. People that would voluntarily risk death for an encounter with a reanimated corpse probably needed a lot more help than a little blood letting could provide. Neil was a well off chap with a stable home life that had reasonable aspirations - get a dog, find love, maybe write a bestseller or two. There was no place for him in this dark, seedy club where vampires lurked and warm, willing bodies lay in wait for them, yearning for them to strike. 

Except Neil slowly found himself unable to sleep at night without imagining himself pinned beneath one of these vicious predators. He had no wish to die, no wish to live forever. He longed for romance, candlelight, and good company. He didn’t have any of the depraved fantasies that would thrive in a place like EnThrall. So why couldn't he stop himself twisting and panting in the sheets at the thought of a vampire draining the life from him? It didn't make sense.

Neil had to put an end to this somehow. The easiest option was to stop walking by the club, of course, but after all the hours he'd sunk into researching the place that seemed like a waste. That meant Neil would just have to go inside and get himself to see firsthand that he really didn’t belong in there. It’d be like stepping into a cold shower in the morning to wake yourself up. A much needed reminder that he was just overthinking things again, and that, really, there was nothing to worry about in regards to his moral sanctity. 

So when Saturday came around, Neil spent the afternoon picking out an outfit that wouldn’t look entirely outlandish in a club full of goth kids. He didn't exactly have much to choose from. His closet was full of button downs, tattered t-shirts, a few nice ties, but - he finally decided on some tight fitting denim jeans that were maybe a size too small and a cuffed black tee. He finished the look with some eyeliner and sheer lip gloss he'd stolen from his sister ages ago, when he was more into the glam style. 

After getting ready, he sat down for a cup of tea and a light dinner to think over his plan for the night - he’d stay an hour at most. He’d get a nice cocktail, listen to the music, and see if there was anyone to chat up. There was never a guarantee that you’d be approached by one of the undead (Neil had heard that complaint hundreds of times from upset club goers who’d stormed out in a huff), but he believed the visit would at least show him he didn’t belong among such morbid people, regardless of whether or not he saw someone being... _fed_ on.

EnThrall was only about a half hour away on foot, but the clouds threatened rain so he splurged for a cab. The last thing he wanted was to arrive drenched. Thankfully, the crowd outside wasn't terrible for a Saturday, and he was able to get to the door just in time. 

After paying the ludicrous £10 entry fee, Neil had another shock at the coat check in. The attendant was wearing a bright blue tank with beige board shorts and flip-flops. It seemed unacceptable that a club like this would hire someone so inappropriately dressed. Neil didn’t expect a cape or anything, but at least some sense of decorum would’ve been nice. EnThrall would never be a regular place for him to visit just on that faux pas alone. 

The drinks were reasonably priced aside from the specialty cocktails - which all had terribly corny names like the _Corpse Reviver_ and _Eternal Kiss_. Dreadful. Neil decided on a gin and tonic after a scan of the poor wine selection and paid for it upfront. He didn’t want to worry about a tab if he needed to leave in a hurry - god, if there was a coworker in here it’d be the end of him. 

Most of the music was terrible, loud and angry, but there were a few trance songs blended in that sounded kind of nice. The dance floor was an empty slab of concrete next to a propped up DJ booth that looked worse for wear. Everyone thrashed around and slammed into one another instead of the usual provocative mix of grinding and thrusting - which was entertaining at least. Fog machines made the air a little hard to breathe, but that could have also been due to the fact that every person in the place had a fag in their hand.

Neil was triumphant to know he’d been right about the place - he didn’t fit in here at all. After he got his bloody £10 quid’s worth, he could go home and confidently write a seething review about this wretched place: ‘ _EnThrall, a Miserable Mire and a Terrible Bore_.’ More on page twelve. 

“This club is god awful, innit?” 

Startled, Neil instinctively clutched his chest to steady himself. His drink slipped from his hand as he did, but...it never hit the ground. Somehow the boy next to him was holding it instead, and Neil was absolutely _certain_ no one could have moved that fast. “What?” Neil whispered. “How did you -” 

“I’ma speedy lad,” the boy answered with a shrug. Neil watched as his gin and tonic was finished off - not by him, mind you - and tried to figure out what was going on. “I’m Chris. You?” 

“Neil, Neil Tennant, and I _paid_ for that drink. I fully expect you to get me another one.” 

“Hm,” Chris said with an indifferent expression, rocking on his heels. “How ‘bout we go somewhere better then? I wanna be able to dance to some _real_ music where there’s more than just one cute bloke around.”

That was a lot of information for Neil to process at once. Apparently Chris didn’t like this club either, which was reasonable, but then Chris said that he found Neil cute - was that just because everyone else in the club was below average? Neil wasn’t sure. Neil also didn’t know if Chris would still talk to him or not if there were other ‘ _cute blokes_ ’ around so that made going to another club a risky proposition. 

“It’s raining,” Neil stuttered out when Chris turned to look at him expectantly. He'd been standing there silently for a good two or three minutes, trying to figure out what to say. Of course, Neil _wanted_ to say that he thought Chris was cute, too - boyishly charming, handsome even - but that seemed a little too forward of him.

“Izzit?” Chris said, scratching his neck after he handed back the empty glass. Neil wasn’t sure what to do with it so he set it down on the bar near some empty beer bottles - they were all horrendously cheap brands. Chris was now leaned against one of the stools and was looking out over the crowd, as if in deep thought. “Mm, guess we can catch a ride back to your place?” 

“My place,” Neil repeated, brows furrowing in thought. Did he want to invite a vampire home with him? That seemed unwise, but perhaps there was some journalistic merit to the idea. “You want to come back to my place?” 

“Well, you don’t wanna come back to mine,” Chris said with a smile that seemed to imply something Neil didn’t understand. “Might be best if we had a proper bed and all, huh?” 

Neil had no idea what that meant, either. He felt like he’d walked into the middle of a conversation that Chris was having with someone else. There was another few minutes of silence as Neil thought this over, watching Chris bounce in place. He seemed to have an endless amount of energy. “Do you mean...to have sex?” Neil asked, and Chris laughed so loudly Neil was sure everyone in the club could hear him. 

“Randy bugger,” Chris teased, and Neil blushed a deep red, paralyzed with embarrassment. “Guess we can after if you’d like. Lotsa guys tell me it gets ‘em in the mood, but they nod off before much happens.” 

The pieces started to fall into place. Chris - unusually fast, incredibly good looking, not particularly impressed with this terrible club. Vampire. Chris was a _vampire_. Neil blinked a few times and felt his heart race nervously. “O-oh. You want to…” Neil trailed off, uncertain. Chris wiggled his eyebrows, and there - just for a moment Neil saw two prominent fangs before they retracted back into something more human. “We just met.”

“I’ve talked to ye more in the past few minutes than I 'ave anyone else this week,” Chris said with a shrug, hands in his pockets. Neil was sure he was just having an incredibly vivid dream. This whole visit was meant to be a write off. He’d already mentally drafted most of his review of this horrid place. Now there was a vampire asking if he could go home with him. “Up to ye, I guess. I’ll piss off if you’re not into blokes or somethin’.” 

“ _N-no_.” Neil cleared his throat and tried to calm himself down. “Sorry. I...I meant to say we can go back to my place if you’d like. I’ve just never...well. I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing, is all. Not that I’m _against it_ , I just -” 

Chris started to walk towards the exit, and Neil squeezed his eyes shut, hating himself. He could never stop himself from getting chatty when he got nervous. Now Chris wanted nothing to do with him, and he’d made an absolute fool out of himself - in front of a _vampire_ no less. An attractive one who for some reason had found him _cute_. “...aren’t you comin’, mate? Rain ain’t that bad. We should be able to catch a cab.” 

“O-oh, yes,” Neil stuttered out, and Chris’ noticeably chilly hand was in his as they headed for the door. Chris mumbled a snide remark about the coat check guy’s atrocious outfit, and Neil near choked from how hard it was to keep back a laugh. Not that he cared if the guy got offended - he wasn't ever coming back to this terrible place. 

They spent the ride to Neil’s house talking about just that. Chris said the name _EnThrall_ should’ve been his first sign to stay away, but Neil insisted the real crime was the outrageous cover charge. _£10_! Somewhere along the way, Neil noticed Chris’ brown eyes would flash a golden hue when he was laughing, or even when he was just smiling, and he found himself absolutely mesmerized by it.

Neil paid the driver when they were back, waving off Chris' offer. Neil was slightly disappointed that Chris kept his hands in his hoodie pockets on the way to the door, but he didn't say anything about it. “Make sure to hang up your jacket in the closet. I don’t want the carpet to get wet.” 

“Mm, y’know most blokes usually don’t care where me clothes go when I get them off,” Chris said, grinning suggestively at him. Neil wasn’t sure how to respond to that so he worked his scarf off and his loafers then put them neatly away beside Chris’ coat. “You’ve a nice place though. Can see why ye might want to keep it tidied.” 

“Thank you,” Neil responded, genuinely glad Chris liked his home. He put a lot of thought into making it, well, _homely_ with rustic paintings and fresh flowers. It was always nice to come back to such a peaceful place after a hectic day at work. “I’ll get us some tea.”

Chris laughed, and Neil wondered what he’d said that had been so funny. “That sounds nice. Can’t drink too much of the stuff, it’ll make me ill, but I love a nice cuppa.” 

“Oh,” Neil said, feeling horribly awkward. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me. I’m not sure I’ve anything better to offer.” 

“Nah, tea’s fine. I’ll get me own drink later, won’t I?” Chris said with a coy smile, and Neil saw his fangs flash into view again. They disappeared just as quickly as they had the last time, and Neil hurried off to the kitchen before he could think too long about how that had made him feel. It was like his stomach had twisted into a knot. Chris _was_ a vampire, after all - an apex predator that could easily kill him if he was so inclined. Neil was still puzzled why he’d even invited him home.

Maybe it was because Chris seemed so human? He was witty and insightful, passionate. It was easy to forget he was meant to feed on the living just to survive. Neil hadn’t met any other vampires so he wasn’t sure if this was common among them or not, but they might not be as rare as people imagined if they were all this charismatic. 

“Oh, there’s a late night show I like to put on about now,” Chris said when Neil walked back into the living room with his tea tray, loaded with all the essentials plus a small plate of digestives. “Izzit alright if we watch it for a bit?” 

“Of course,” Neil said, filling their cups. Chris sipped down half of his without even waiting for it to cool down. Neil blinked in amazement, knowing it had to be boiling hot, and gently blew on his own cup, wondering if he should say anything. It seemed too inconsequential a matter to fret over though so he decided to ask something of more importance. “How...how old are you?”

Chris glanced over with a pensive expression and shrugged. “Dunno. We’re not immortal if that’s what yer thinkin’. We just age slow. Guess I’m...mm, probably just a few years older than ye.” 

“And how old am _I_?” Neil retorted, drawing his shoulders up. Chris rolled his eyes and reached for one of the biscuits. He didn’t seem like he was going to answer so Neil let it go. “That’s interesting. Were you _born_ a vampire, or were you, um -”

“Turned?” Chris asked, smiling briefly. It didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Yes. I was turned. No one’s born a vampire or anything. We’re more recruited, I guess.” 

Neil hated to talk over the entire show so he waited for a little while, pondering what to ask next. This was so interesting to learn about. No one would believe him if he wrote an article about this, everyone knew how reclusive and rare vampires were, but he longed to have his notepad in hand, jotting down every new fact. Maybe Chris wouldn’t mind? 

“Could I get my journal? Would that be okay?” Neil asked, nervous, but Chris just shrugged again. Neil hurriedly went to his room to grab it (and a few pens, obviously) before he set himself down on the couch, a little closer to Chris than he’d been a few minutes ago. _Ages slowly, recruited?_ “Did you agree to being turned?” 

Chris was quiet for a while, and Neil worried he’d ask something too private. “Aye, I did. At the time, it seemed like a good deal, ye know? Stay young, go out to the clubs all the time. The bloke that turned me, I, uh…” Chris paused and sat his tea cup down. Neil wasn’t sure what to write down so he just doodled the ‘ _Boy_ ’ logo on Chris’ hat. “Dunno why I’m tellin’ ye all this, but I guess I thought I loved him. He was nice at first. Turns out he was a dickhead.” 

“I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to.” Chris’ eyes were flecked with gold again. Neil studiously noted it down: _Strong emotions cause a change in appearance_. “I...well, I write for a magazine. Smash Hits? I’m a journalist so I have a tendency to be rather inquisitive.” 

Chris turned off the TV as the credits came on, and his smile now seemed more relaxed. “Ye do seem the scholarly type. I’d’ve guessed a librarian.” Neil made an indignant sound and touched the side of his glasses. They were professional, not bookish. “What else do ye want to know?” 

“Um…” Neil fiddled with his pen then decided to pick up a black one, setting the blue one aside for now. “You’re a Northerner?” 

“Blackpool, aye,” Chris said, nodding. “Moved down when I was a student. Liked it here better so I stayed.” 

“I’m from Northumberland. I like it here better, as well.” Neil paused as Chris began to laugh, confused as to why being a Geordie was such a hysterical fact to him.

“Ye sure don’t sound like it. Listen to ye and yer posh self. Proper London gent, ye are,” Chris said, laughing harder. Neil was offended, but...it was true. He’d lost his accent a while ago. “I like it. Think it sounds nice. Better than mine.” 

Neil suddenly felt his cheeks warm, and he very pointedly didn’t write that down. Just _Blackpool_ with a line under it. “You were a student? What did you study?” 

“Architecture. Made a luvly staircase, I did. Didn’t finish me internship or nothin’ in the end, but I s’ppose if the vampire stuff doesn’t work out I can make a good name for meself makin’ lots of stuff for people to walk up.”

“And down,” Neil added, smiling. Chris nodded emphatically. Neil noticed he hadn’t finished the biscuit and wrote that down, too: _Limited ability to eat solid food_. “Do you do anything other than visit horrendous night clubs?” 

“Not a lot, no,” Chris mumbled, looking quite serious before he cracked up again. Neil unconsciously drew a small heart but quickly scribbled over it, silently telling himself to get it together. “Like to pull cute lads, like good music. I love a good beat. Thought I might try bein’ a musician, but -”

“Oh!” Neil said, grabbing Chris’ elbow. “Then I’ve something to show you.” 

“Aye?” Chris’ expression became quite lewd, but Neil ignored it in favor of taking him to his bedroom. The synth he’d bought a few months ago was pressed in next to his writing desk by the window. He’d not even bothered turning it on yet, but he couldn’t find it in himself to return it, either. “Wow, that’s bloody stunning, that is. Can’t believe yer rich _and_ good looking. Lucky me.” 

Neil was going to have to get used to someone being so flirtatious with him otherwise his cheeks were going to be permanently crimson. “You can try it out. I’m...not sure how to use it, honestly.” 

“Can’t do much without a speaker hooked up, but I can come by -” Chris suddenly froze and looked down at his feet. Neil wasn’t sure what was wrong, and he touched Chris’ shoulder. It felt icy under the thin white t-shirt he had on. “Ye got me forgettin’. We don’t know each other do we?”

That was a difficult question. They’d only met an hour or so ago, but Neil had felt like he’d known Chris his whole life. He was never quick to get on with people. He actually preferred to be alone when possible but Chris made him feel so at ease. “I’d...certainly _like_ to know you,” Neil tried, staring down at the floor. It seemed easier than looking at Chris right then. “If you’d like to know me, I suppose.” 

Chris was silent for so long that Neil had to look back up, chest tight with worry. Unfortunately Chris’ expression was blank so it didn’t give him much insight as to what he was thinking about. “I do. I do want to know ye. I -” Chris gritted his jaw for a moment. “I have to go right now, but here - let me see yer journal.” 

Neil’s heart sunk, but he handed the journal over along with his black pen. Chris flipped open to a random page and scribbled something down before returning it back. “Is this where I can reach you?” Neil asked, glancing down at the phone number written in neat script, and Chris nodded. “Okay. I’ll, um - ring you soon then.” 

Chris didn’t say anything as he left the room, and Neil stood there looking blankly at his synthesizer for a long time. The front door opened, closed. Then there was just silence. Neil tried to hold back tears, not sure why he even wanted to cry, but they released in a torrent down his cheeks with a rather ugly sob. 

Neil let himself lie down for a moment, trying to breathe and think things through. Chris _did_ want to know him, right? Chris left him a phone number. _His_ phone number, probably, and that meant Chris didn’t leave because he didn’t like Neil. That had to mean that Neil could see Chris again. But when? How soon? Neil wanted him to come back now - he missed the sound of his voice, missed his laugh - but he’d have to wait at least a few days. He didn't want to seem desperate for Chris' company or anything.

Sighing, Neil flipped open the journal and looked at the phone number again. Chris had written his full name underneath: _Chris Lowe_. He also noticed there was also a circle around the heart he’d scribbled out, and he flushed at the realization that Chris had seen him do that...and liked it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More editing to be done in the morning. Bad day so it's been a little hard to get myself motivated. Sorry for any obvious mistakes or rewrites. I just wanted to be sure to put up something today so I don't lose steam.

After two weeks of restless uncertainty, Neil finally decided to call. The worst that could happen is that Chris didn’t pick up, right? So he downed a few glasses of wine and snatched the phone off its receiver. He resolutely pushed in each number and made himself hit the _Dial_ button before he got too nervous, ignoring the unspeakable dread crawling out from the pit of his stomach.

The line rang for ages before Neil heard the tell-tell signs of someone picking up - the clatter of the receiver, the static of the phone line being pulled - but he found himself unable to say anything at the sound of Chris' voice, throat too tight to get out a single _‘hello_.’

“‘Ello? Whos’it?” 

“Chris -” Neil rolled his eyes at himself and rubbed his temples in frustration. Why was this so hard? “I mean, this is Neil. We met a few weeks ago. I’m sorry to phone you like this. I wasn’t sure when was a good time to call. I thought it might be too early for you, but then -” 

“It’s good to hear from you,” Chris said, and Neil got himself to quiet down. He stared at his feet, twisting the phone cord in thought, before he pulled the receiver over to the couch - perhaps this would be easier if he was sitting down. “Thought ye’d never bloody call me. Ere ye?” 

“I’m sorry?” Neil asked, uncertain what that meant. He was a little caught on the fact that Chris had been waiting for him to call, honestly. “How am I?” 

“Aye. Not been back to EnThrall, have ye?” 

“Oh _god_ no. I can’t believe I spent weeks standing outside that awful place.” Neil nearly sunk into the couch in embarrassment that he'd said that out loud. “I mean, I didn’t. I wouldn’t have wasted my time like that. Is what I mean.” 

Chris laughed, and Neil heard unfamiliar voices in the background, asking about who was on the phone. “Mind yer own business, that's bloody who - _Oi!_ " There was a slight scuffle and Chris laughed even harder, which made Neil smile into the back of his hand. "Sorry, nosy bloody flatmates. And I had thought I’d seen ye around the place once or twice. Can’t believe I was bloody told to visit that place so many times. Least I got to meet ye out of it, eh?” 

Neil felt the increasingly normal blush creep back onto his face. Chris just seemed to naturally have that effect on him. “Yes. That was quite fortunate, wasn’t it? I’m glad...I’m glad we met, too. How’re you?” 

“Just wakin’ up. Thought I might go out. Are ye hungry? Heard of a place that just opened downtown -”

“The Bombay Brasserie! Yes,” Neil said excitedly. He’d heard a coworker talking about it a few days ago, and it sounded divine - Indian food had always been a favorite of his, but none of his peers had wanted to go there with him, tutting about the spices being too much for their bland English tastebuds. “Do vampires, um...eat?”

“Aye, not much, but it's fine. Meet me there in an hour?” 

Neil hesitated. He needed to get ready, and that usually took a while. “Hour and a half?” 

“Don’t be late,” Chris said, and the line clicked off. Neil sat there with the receiver for a little while, heart racing, before he rushed to the bedroom, panicking at what to wear. First a shower, that much was obvious, then a shave. How much gel was too much? It was always hard to know. He decided to just run a handful through the mess of his curls, flattening it all down a bit with a strand left loose in the front. 

He had no idea what to wear. If this was a date then Neil wanted to lean towards something more dressy, but, then, what if this was just two new friends hanging out with one another? That would mean he’d need to wear something more casual - maybe a nice jumper and a pair of loose trousers. If only he could call Chris back to ask for more clarification.

Underwear was easy at least. Well fitted, dark colored Marks and Spencers - and jeans were absolutely out of the question. That was _far_ too casual, especially for such a nice restaurant. So Neil tried on slacks of a few different colors, turning this way and that way in front of the mirror to try and decide what would be best. Eventually he settled on a nice tan pair with a white button down. He had tried a black button down, as well, but that looked ridiculous. White definitely worked best with the tan. 

With hardly enough time to spare, Neil called for a cab and waited outside for it to arrive, checking his watch every few seconds. He’d written down the address for the restaurant on a small piece of paper just in case, but the driver said he’d already been there and loved it. Neil was happy to hear it and took note of his recommendations. 

Worryingly, Chris wasn’t outside when Neil arrived. It was only a few minutes past their arranged meeting time so he went in to check with the hostess, hoping Chris hadn't stood him up. After a few minutes of checking the seating, the hostess perked up and waved for Neil to follow her. “Right this way,” she said with a cheerful smile, and Neil tried to keep himself from looking too excited when he saw Chris across the room. 

He looked far more casual than Neil in baggy jeans with an oversized jacket and a loose, dark shirt. He was wearing his _Boy_ cap again, as well - it was pulled down far enough that Neil had trouble seeing his eyes. “Hello, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long.” 

“Nah,” Chris said, giving him a wry smile, and Neil saw how eerily pale he looked under the fluorescent lights. It was otherworldly. “I’ve just gotten here a bit ago. Traffic was shite.”

“You drive?” Neil asked, thanking the waitress that stopped by with a glass of water and a basket of papadum. “That must be incredibly expensive. When did you learn how to?” 

Chris shrugged and Neil could feel his foot tapping under the table. “Mm, when I was in school. Managed to get me license before all -” Chris gestured to himself. “This happened. I like it better than the tube most days. Easier to listen to me tapes.” 

Neil was captivated, and they talked about the music they liked for a long while. They had such similar interests - disco being a shared favorite along with house music. While they both liked rap, they spent more time listening to Motown. “Oh! We get spare records all the time at the office. I can bring some of them back to my place, if you'd like, and we can go through them together sometime,” Neil said, watching Chris’ face light up with excitement.

“Oh, abso-bloody-lutely,” Chris said. Neil suddenly noticed he hadn’t touched any of his dinner and frowned, hoping all this wasn’t awkward for him. “Hey - it’s okay. Here." 

Neil watched him take a few hurried bites of his curry and wondered how he was able to tell what he was thinking about just then. Vampires weren't known for their latent telepathic abilities, were they? He'd definitely have to ask Chris about it later. “Don’t force yourself. I just hate for you to not enjoy yourself is all,” Neil said, reaching to touch Chris’ hand. He tried not to shiver at the chill that ran up his arm. 

“‘M here with you, aren’t I? What else do I need?” Chris said. Neil blinked and felt himself blush again in response. “Plus, the place is gorgeous. Don’t mind just takin’ it all in.” 

“It is really nice in here,” Neil whispered, clearing his throat. “I really enjoy your company.” 

“C’mon, eat up. Gotta place I wanna show ye afterward,” Chris said, and Neil immediately asked what he meant. “‘S a surprise, innit? Can’t just ruin it by tellin’ ye.” 

They finished their dinner with idle chit chat about their hobbies. Chris loved to dance but only at home, locked away in his bedroom. He did live in a flat with a few other people, all of whom were human surprisingly, and he loved to play piano when he had the chance, which wasn’t often. He also said he'd been looking into Neil's synth - he'd need a specific part to get it working so Neil made a mental note to pick one up.

Chris paid for their meal, and Neil couldn’t stop smiling as they walked out of the restaurant. It had _definitely_ felt like a date. There was no way to be sure unless he asked though, and that was never going to happen. “Alright. Do I get to know where you’re taking me now?” 

“Ye’ll see,” Chris said, and Neil was excited when their hands linked (he also made a mental note to wear gloves next time they went out. It’d be more comfortable if hand holding became a regular thing between them). Chris’ car wasn’t anything too special - a few years old, maybe, a little battered - but it drove well enough down the motorway, and that's all that mattered. Neil went through all of Chris’ tapes and, after a bit of thought, went with The Supremes over Dusty Springfield. He worried it might be too romantic, but Chris just sang along to _Baby Love_ with a ridiculous grin on his face, nudging him as he crooned the chorus, and Neil couldn't help but join in.

They drove through the night, talking and laughing like they’d known each other for years. Neil was enjoying himself so much he nearly forgot they were meant to arrive somewhere. Chris parked in the back of a mostly empty lot, and Neil got out to take a look around. A nearby sign said Primrose Hill, which he vaguely recognized, but he’d not ever visited before.

Chris took his hand again and guided them along a footpath, up a small hill, and Neil felt his breath catch at the sight of the hundreds of tiny lights glittering below them. “This is incredible. Thank you,” Neil said quietly, sinking to sit in the grass. Chris joined him after a moment. “I’d not thought London had a place like this - where you could see the city.” 

“‘S nice,” Chris said and Neil leaned into his shoulder, linking their arms. “Like to sit out here every once in a while, clear me head. There’s usually not too many people around this late ‘cept on bonfire night.” 

“I’m usually so busy with work that I don’t take the time to sightsee. Ever since I came to London…” Neil trailed off, uncertain. “I just didn’t want to fail. I didn’t want to go back home.” 

Chris nodded. “I got high marks in school just so I could get an internship here. Never thought about headin’ back to Blackpool. Even after…” Chris gestured towards himself again, and Neil realized he had a hard time saying he was a vampire. “Never wanted to go back home. Always thought there was more for me here.” 

“Do you work?” Neil asked, curious how Chris could afford something as luxurious as a car. “If that’s not too personal to ask, of course. You’re welcome to not say -” 

“‘S okay,” Chris said, and he stretched his arm around Neil’s shoulder. Neil wrapped his arms around Chris’ middle in return and rested his head on his chest. It was strange to not hear a heartbeat, to feel chilly instead of warm, but he got used it after a while. “People pay me to feed on ‘em. They like it.” 

Neil's eyebrows went up to his hairline, and he was glad Chris couldn’t see his face. Unless vampires had night vision which - well. Hm. Neil shook himself out of his reverie and thought about what to say. “Oh. That’s...I didn’t know -” Neil paused as Chris began to laugh, feeling the reverberations of it run through him. “Does it pay well?” 

“Well, ‘s not ‘ _bought meself a synth I don’t know how to use_ ’ kinda money but aye. It gets me by,” Chris said, and Neil sighed indignantly. He wasn’t _that_ rich. He was just a frugal spender. “‘S why I went to EnThrall. Few mates said it was easy cash.” 

Neil itched for his journal to write all this down, but he just made mental notes for now. “Is it? Easy money? Do you like...being paid for that?” Neil asked, thumbing the zipper of Chris’ jacket. 

“Has its ups and down,” Chris replied after a minute. Neil felt his fingers brushing through his hair, and he burrowed himself into Chris' hoodie to hide the shy smile on his face - and _god_ , did he smell good. “If the bloke looks nice it can be fun. Old guys are always the weirdest. Sometimes I pair up with a bird, but I never - mm. Usually gets a person worked up when I bite ‘em, yeah? And when a lass gets too into it…” 

A sudden realization hit Neil. One he’d not considered prior to now. “You’re gay?” 

Chris laughed so hard he fell sideways, and Neil had to pull away to avoid an errant elbow to the face. Neil recognized that question probably should have come up sooner, but, prior to now, Neil had thought himself straight. Though that didn’t explain why he may or may not be on a date with Chris Lowe, who was definitely a man. “Bloody well _hope_ I am,” Chris wheezed, propping himself back up. “Otherwise I’ve sucked a lot of cock in me time that I didn’t mean to!” 

Neil immediately felt his face reddening again. Would that ever stop happening? “Sorry, I realize that might have been obvious. I just hadn’t...I hadn’t really thought about it.” Chris wiped at his eyes as another burst of giggles came out, and Neil could feel a smile threatening the corners of his lips. “I’m not sure if I am, honestly. I’ve only ever dated women before.” 

“And now me,” Chris said with a smile that made Neil feel like he was floating ten feet off the ground. “S’ppose we need to head back soon, huh? Ye got work tomorrow?” 

Neil wanted to say no - he’d much rather stay here with Chris for the rest of the night - but it was Sunday, and he had to be up early tomorrow morning. “I suppose so,” Neil said, and he reached for Chris’ hand, squeezing it tightly. “Maybe we can see each other again soon?” 

“Ye can be sure of it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One or two more parts left, I think? Sorry again for any obvious editing/rewriting.

“Mm, well. Village People were never my cup of tea -” Neil dragged the base of the phone over to the couch, stretching himself out. “I’ll give it a listen, but - oh! I picked up the part you mentioned. A coworker recommended an electronics shop, and they handmade it for me. Isn’t that fabulous? I think when you next come over you should be able to, um...do whatever it is you need to do.”

Chris laughed and explained the process all over again (for probably the hundredth time this week) while Neil reflected on how quickly these long, drawn out phone calls had become routine for them. He had given Chris his number when he drove him home from Primrose Hill last week, and as soon as Neil got home from work the next day - the phone rang. 

They talked for hours at a time, the phone bill was going to be outrageous this month, but Neil could never find a reason to hang up. There was always another thing he wanted to talk about, and Chris was always interested in whatever he had to say. Neil loved that Chris asked him difficult questions, about art and history and the world at large, and Chris would just quietly listen to Neil’s diatribe of an answer, only chiming in once in a while with an intrigued _‘huh_.’

“Does this Saturday still work for ye then?” 

“Oh, hm,” Neil said, reaching for his planner. He had a few scattered about the house as he’d always forget where he’d set one down and would just buy another on the way to work, needing them to keep track of project deadlines and upcoming interviews. “There’s a dinner rehearsal I need to go to that morning, apparently - but otherwise I should be free. You said there was a chipper you wanted to try?” 

“Aye, it’s meant to be pretty good. Plus, I can’t exactly be out with ye early in the day anyways,” Chris said with a cheeky tone, and Neil internally kicked himself. He’d forgotten again. “Gives me a terrible sunburn.” 

“Do you -” Neil thought over how to ask something so private. He didn’t want to be rude. “Can you go out in the sun...at all?” 

“Mm, some. Don’t burst into flames or nothin’, mind ye. It’s just uncomfortable. Much prefer stayin’ inside if I can.” Neil quickly wrote down a note about that in his planner - his journal was in the other room at the moment. _No beach holidays_. “I’ll pick ye up at 5 then?” 

Neil made it a priority that Saturday to visit the boutique right after the dinner rehearsal wrapped up. He bought several pairs of dark jeans that were a little more form fitting, some respectable looking button downs (anything but stark white, really. He had too many of those already), and a few soft jumpers. As he was getting ready to leave the store, Neil froze at the sight of a leather jacket near the door. It was so... _not_ him, but he impulsively grabbed it and brought it to the counter, mumbling something about it being for a friend. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent at his desk, writing terrible lyrics about a beautiful young man, and he decided maybe his time would be better spent getting ready. It would be a much more casual outing this time so Neil went with one of his new outfits: jeans, undershirt, jumper. He kept picking up the leather jacket, trying to will himself to put it on, but it remained in the closet. His normal wool overcoat would be fine.

By the time Neil had finished his hair, the doorbell rang about five times which was followed by an impatient knock. Neil opened the door to see Chris’ smiley, bouncy self, bundled in a giant hoodie. “C’mon. Let’s go already. Still bloody bright out, innit?” Neil nodded and followed Chris out to his car after he gathered his things and locked the door, listening to Chris complain about the weather. “S’ppose to always be rainy in London, but it bloody never is when you need it to be.” 

The drive was filled with their usual banter. Neil moaned about his coworkers, about the peer reviews he had to have done by Monday, and Chris talked about a few clubs he’d visited last night - which ones had the best music and which ones served the best beer. Neil wondered if he’d chatted any other guys up, if he had fed on someone, but that made him feel strangely despondent. Neil knew that Chris had said they were dating - it’s just...he wasn’t sure if they were _exclusive_ or not. 

They had to park a few blocks away, but Neil enjoyed the chance to hold Chris’ hand again as they walked to the chipper. Neil had remembered to put some gloves in his overcoat, too, which meant there were no worries of him getting cold like last time. Chris had a slight smile on his face when he saw Neil put them on but didn’t say anything about it, just linked their fingers together and squeezed them a little. 

There wasn’t a crowd inside so they chose a table towards the back - it was still a bit sunny for them to sit in the patio out front - and they had an intense debate about mushy peas while they ate. Neil felt they were quintessentially English, and that they should be respected as such. Chris thought they were disgusting and flicked some onto Neil’s plate in protest. So Neil ate them, defiantly and with great pride. 

Chris slowly dragged his thumb against the corner of Neil’s mouth when he’d finished, and Neil had to hold back a moan from how good it’d felt. “Missed a bit,” Chris murmured, licking away the spot of food with an indulgent smile. Neil felt a shiver of arousal go down his spine in response and repeatedly reminded himself they were in public.

“T-thank you,” Neil whispered. Chris was quiet for a minute, and Neil glanced up to see his eyes had those brilliant gold flecks floating in them, making the deep brown irises shine iridescently. Neil thought he might know what emotion had caused them to appear - because he was definitely feeling it, too. “I’ve got the lead for my synth you asked for, if you want to come back to my place.” 

“Sounds good,” Chris answered and put his arm around Neil’s waist as they made their way back to the car. There was a tense silence between them, not uncomfortable, really - just brimming with an urgency that had their feet moving a bit faster down the sidewalk. “Didn’t really have much else planned, I’m a bit stint at the moment.” 

“You know I wouldn’t mind paying if you want to go anywhere,” Neil argued, brows drawn down in annoyance that Chris would imply otherwise. “In fact, I bought something today you might like. You’ll have to try it on when we get back.” 

They reached the parking lot and Chris paused to open the passenger door for Neil, helping him in. “That right? Mm, not sure I’d look good in a turtleneck. You look bloody gorgeous in them, but it’s just not me thing.” Neil scoffed and crossed his arms, leaning back against the seat. Neil would never push Chris to wear something that might look unfashionable on him - Chris did that plenty on his own. “Wouldn’t mind goin’ out shopping with ye though. Get ye some decent clothes to go out dancing in.”

“I’ve _plenty_ of suitable clothes to go dancing in,” Neil said, confident at first but soon realizing Chris was right. Chris, as expected, scoffed and began to drive them back to Neil’s place. Neil picked out a Dusty Springfield tape to keep himself distracted, and Chris tapped along to the beat while Neil sang all the words he could remember. 

By the time they reached the house, they were bickering about what album defined Dusty’s career - which was clearly _Dusty in Memphis_. Chris was just being difficult and saying it was the singles that actually mattered, not the albums, so it was really all about the 7-inch release of _Wishin’ and Hopin’_. Sometimes there was just no getting through to Chris.

“I’ve got the speaker part on the desk in my bedroom. Feel free to take a look while I make the tea,” Neil said as he got the door open. Chris remembered to put his jacket in the closet along with his shoes, and Neil tried not to smile too much about something so minor. “Oh, and sorry for the mess. I didn’t tidy after I got ready earlier.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, which was fair - Neil kept everything incredibly orderly and neat. His worst was most people’s best. Still, Chris had only been by once before, and he didn’t want to make a bad impression. “I’m sure it’s fine,” Chris said as he walked by Neil, brushing their fingers together. Neil felt his heart pick up speed at the touch, throat tightening for a moment, and he shakily made his way to the kitchen. 

There were some worrying sounds Neil could hear as he put the kettle on, but soon the house reverberated with a soft, slow melody - Neil had no idea Chris could play so well. It made him rush to finish up the tea so he could go watch, near burning himself as he got the bags into each mug. 

Neil toed the door open with his foot as he walked in and saw Chris hunched over the keyboard. Chris didn’t so much as look up as Neil sat their tea down, entirely focused on the synth. He would flip one effect on, then another, and Neil was mesmerized as all the sounds came together so harmoniously. It was as if Chris had been practicing for years, not the past five minutes. Perhaps vampires were just incredibly gifted in the arts? Neil wasn’t sure. 

“That sounds great,” Neil said after a moment, and Chris looked up as if he’d forgotten Neil was there. Neil didn’t mind - he was just glad to see Chris so excited. He’d talked nonstop about getting this synth set up since they met. “You seem to really know what you’re doing - do you have a synthesizer at home?” 

“Nah,” Chris said as he picked up the tea then set it back down. Neil hoped he wasn’t feeling too unwell from the food they had earlier. “I just play what sounds good to me, I guess.” 

Neil struggled to believe that’s all there was to it. He had never been especially skilled with his guitar - his hands always felt so clumsy on the frets - but Chris appeared to just create music so effortlessly. Which, Neil supposed, was quite like him with the written word. The two of them were quite the paradigm. “Feel free to keep playing,” Neil said encouragingly and went to sit on the bed with his tea, grabbing his journal along the way. 

Before he could get anything written down, the bed dipped and Neil looked up to see Chris crawling towards him. The mug was pulled out of his hands, set aside, and Neil had a complaint at the ready, right on the tip of his tongue, but Chris pushed their lips together and Neil couldn’t remember what he’d been upset about. He held onto Chris’ shoulder, tangling his fingers into his hoodie, and their mouths chastely pressed together for a long few minutes. 

Eventually Neil had to pull back to catch his breath and shake out some of the numbness in his hands. Chris’ expression had darkened - his eyes now shone gold completely with not a hint of brown. Clearly he wanted to be kissing him - though Neil struggled to believe that anyone could be attracted to him, especially someone like Chris. “Is it okay if I kiss you again?” Chris asked softly, almost imperceptibly, and Neil wanted to say ‘ _yes, please, and don’t stop_ ,’ but he was still incredibly nervous. He’d not ever kissed a man before now.

“Do you want to kiss me again?” Neil asked, and Chris laughed, rested his forehead against Neil’s shoulder. Neil ran his hand down the back of Chris’ neck and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. 

Chris moved himself into Neil’s lap and began to work his mouth along Neil’s jaw with slow, open kisses up to his ear. “This may not -” Neil panicked for a moment when Chris pulled back, entirely sure he’d done something wrong. “Could I see your hand for a moment?” 

“Oh,” Neil said, confused. “Sure.” 

“Just let me know if ye don’t like this,” Chris whispered. Neil wasn’t sure what that meant, but then Chris pulled his hand up and Neil saw his fangs again. It made every nerve in his body light up with arousal. It should’ve been fear - with an apex predator about to feed from him - but Neil was suddenly desperate to know what it was like, to know why those kids at EnThrall all longed for this. 

“Oh, _oh_ -” Neil moaned as one of Chris’ fangs pricked his index fingers, heat pooling between his thighs. The slightest drop of blood inched out, and Chris’ tongue carefully lapped it away along with the next few drips - then the wound closed, just like that. It vanished like it had never been there in the first place. Neil blinked a few times in amazement. “W-wow,” Neil stuttered out after a moment, and he noticed that Chris was no longer ice cold - he was almost room temperature - and his skin no longer seemed so unnaturally pale. 

Neil also realized that he’d gone from mildly turned on to, well - _extremely_ turned on in those brief few seconds. It didn’t seem possible that he could’ve gotten hard so fast, but it felt like his slacks were far tighter than they were a minute ago. 

“Ye alright?” Chris asked and Neil nodded, a little dizzy. Chris’ wry grin made Neil think he wasn’t doing a good job hiding how aroused he felt, but imaginably Chris had done this enough that he expected this kind of response - Neil didn’t need to feel ashamed despite his mind telling him otherwise. “Here, lie back. It helps.” 

That seemed reasonable so Neil let Chris push him down onto the bed. He closed his eyes and let himself breathe for a little while. Chris rubbed slow circles into his chest, and Neil wasn’t sure if it was meant to be comforting or not - as, really, it was just making his cock throb, not calming him down. “Did that - are you warmer...because of me?” Neil asked, reaching to brush his fingers across Chris’ cheek. It was tinged a dark red which offset the gold of his eyes. 

“Aye,” Chris murmured with a shy smile. Neil felt his chest tighten up with an innumerable amount of emotions at the sight of it. One of them felt distantly like love, but that was far too big a thing for Neil to process right then. “Figured it might be a lil’ more comfortable for ye.” 

Chris pressed a kiss to his temple before he worked his lips back down to meet Neil’s own. Neil lifted himself a little for a better angle and reached to hold onto Chris’ shoulder, squeezing it timidly. He sighed as their tongues finally met, Chris’ taking the lead. The strong taste of iron was off putting at first but Neil didn’t mind it too badly after a while. It seemed so inconsequential to how good Chris’ lips felt against his own. 

They finally slowed down after about half an hour, and Neil’s lips felt incredibly sore - Chris liked to nip at them, suck them between his teeth, and while Neil _really_ enjoyed that it had started to become a little painful. Not in a bad way, Neil thought. It was like when you ran for too long, and your legs trembled in an achingly nice way. You might need to rest a little, but you’d definitely be back at it again soon. 

“That was wonderful,” Neil whispered, giggling. He couldn’t help it. Chris laughed, too, and they laid together, just holding one another. It seemed so intimate despite them still having all their clothes on. Neil’s cock was painfully hard, but he didn’t want to ask for too much too soon - though he was sure he could feel Chris’ own erection against his leg. 

“Glad you enjoyed yourself,” Chris said after he’d calmed down, though a few giggles kept bursting out. Neil noticed he was cooler to the touch now. The blood he took must not have been enough to keep him warm for long. “I’ll need to head back soon - flatmates will have me head if I wake them up in the middle of the night.”

“Isn’t that always a risk when you room with a vampire?” Neil asked, puzzled. Surely it was understood that someone like Chris would probably be out till sunrise, if he wasn’t able to get out much during the day. At least, Neil would hope his roommates knew of Chris’ condition. That’d be a strange thing not to share when rooming with someone. 

“Mm, well. They still hold normal jobs and all,” Chris said, and Neil wanted to argue that tomorrow was Sunday but - some people did work weekends, strange as that seemed. “I’m just allowed to stay cause I can still pay me part of the rent and mind the place while they’re out.” 

Neil linked their fingers and wondered if Chris would like another drink before he went. That seemed too forward of Neil to mention though. Then another thought hit Neil out of the blue, one that had been bothering him most of the night. “Chris, are we…” Neil bit his lip in thought and immediately let go when he felt the sting. “Are we an item?” _Boyfriends_ was too difficult to say. 

Another laugh. Neil rolled his eyes and shoved at Chris’ chest, immensely displeased. “Aye, I’d already said we were, Neb. If that’s alright with ye.” Chris’ smile lit up his whole face though his eyes had dimmed some. Neil liked it better when he could see the small flecks swirling through the dark brown. “Can’t let ye go until I can get that synth back to me flat anyways.” 

“I’m not sure I can wait another week to see you again,” Neil whispered, all in a rush. That sounded devastatingly pathetic, but just the thought of Chris going home tonight made his heart hurt. “Maybe we can meet for lunch?” 

Chris looked thoughtful, which could be worrying at times, but Neil trusted it was in consideration of the next time they could see one another. “Mm, I could come by your office? Might have to wear a few layers on the drive over, but it wouldn’t be too bad, s’long as there’s a nice shady spot to sit.” 

“My cubicle,” Neil said with a long suffering sigh. He was miles away from the nearest window - well, at least a few dozen meters. He still didn’t have a proper office despite him working twice as hard as his peers most days. “Though we can try somewhere a little nicer - oh! We can go to the break room together? I can pull the blinds closed for you. That'd be far better than my desk.” 

“Alright. I’ll swing by when I’ve the time,” Chris said, pressing a few kisses to Neil’s cheek. Neil leaned into them and gingerly returned a few back - though he had to pull away when it started to hurt again. “Now - show me what ye bought me today, eh?” 


	4. Chapter 4

A few days had passed and Chris hadn’t mentioned their possible lunch date again. Neil had thought that might be for the best as he still wasn’t sure how well Chris would fare in the afternoon sun, but that Thursday Chris had popped by his office entirely unannounced with an enormous box of sandwiches. A few of Neil’s coworkers questioned why Chris was wearing a leather jacket (Neil’s heart swelled at the sight of it) and two hoodies on a temperate day, but Chris just shrugged at them, mumbling that he was always a bit chilly. Neil hurried them to the break room after that, failing to stifle a laugh at Chris' antics as Neil pulled him down the hallway. He was such an endearing little moppet.

They sat together on the small couch furthest from the window, chatting about their day. Chris’ cheeks looked a little red, and he scratched them uncomfortably every few minutes, but Neil tried not to worry too much. He was clearly a bit tired, as well, so he kept the chit-chat about what records had come in that week and other minor stuff.

When Neil had to get back to work, Chris had pressed him against the break room door and kissed him till he felt lightheaded. Neil was absolutely positive he wouldn’t be able to get anything productive done after that, but he made himself get back to his desk and transcribe a few interviews. Of course, his thoughts constantly wandered back to the feel of Chris’ lips on his own, the way his hands held him in place so effortlessly, so he decided to clock out early, telling his coworkers he felt a bit under the weather. 

As Neil walked home, he found himself reminiscing about EnThrall and what a domino effect his visit had caused. That club had been all he could think about a few weeks ago, and now, by some strange turn of fate, he was living the life all those goth kids dreamed about - though Chris certainly fell short of the mark for a stereotypical vampire. He wasn't a dark, brooding stranger that stalked the night for his unassuming prey - he didn't suck the blood of virgins or have an intense fear of garlic. He was just... _Chris_. Neil wondered if they had been fated to meet. Would destiny have intervened if they didn’t find each other in EnThrall that night? He really hoped so.

Surprisingly, the phone wasn't ringing when Neil got home - Chris usually called him right before dinner. He called Chris’ apartment to check in, but his roommates said he'd not come home all afternoon. Neil was worried but tried not to panic - Chris might have needed to go out to eat, or...he could have just had something else planned. Neil couldn’t expect Chris to keep him up to date all the time, even if they were, well - _dating_. 

So Neil spent the night watching the telly, drinking wine, and sitting by the phone. He didn’t want to bother Chris’ roommates by calling again - they promised to leave him a note for when he got back - but it did seem unusual for Chris to be out all night. He had just told Neil a few days ago he didn’t like to get back home too late, hadn’t he? 

Anxious, Neil got ready for bed and decided to sleep on the couch, just in case - he didn’t want to risk not hearing the phone from the bedroom. It took two more glasses of wine for him to relax, but after a bit of tossing and turning he was able to fall into a restless slumber.

Three days passed without a word. His roommates still hadn’t seen him, and Neil finally had to take off from work - he’d gotten nothing done when he’d come in and had been terse with his coworkers for asking him to do anything other than sit by the phone. He had no idea what to do though, or how to find out if Chris was okay. The police couldn’t help locate a dead person. Vampires didn’t vote or pay taxes, they didn’t have a mortgage. As far as society was concerned, Chris had died several years ago and there was nowhere to look for him aside from the local cemetery.

Neil wrote down every snippet he could remember from their last conversation. It hadn’t been anything special from what he could remember. Chris had mentioned going home to get some rest before he left - before they had kissed goodbye. He had said he might watch a movie later that day - one he’d seen listed in the TV guide. Neil couldn’t remember what movie, exactly, but that didn’t seem relevant - he needed to recall if Chris had mentioned going anywhere. Had he said anything unusual? Out of the ordinary? 

The next morning, Neil had enough waiting around and came up with a plan. He rang Chris' flat, took down his address, and went to get a map of London from the corner store (he had also apologized for calling three times the day before, but thankfully Chris' roommates didn't seem to mind). He cleared a space off the coffee table and smoothed the map out, looking it over for a while. He first circled his house and Chris' flat, then the Smash Hits office. It seemed like Chris lived about half an hour away from Neil’s house, and he traced the route with his blue pen. The Smash Hits office was almost dead center.

Using his black pen, Neil marked the most obvious roads to check before he rang for a cab. He waited outside with his map and journal along with some extra cash for the fare. The initial plan was to see if he could spot Chris’ car anywhere - lay by, maybe, or a parking lot. Thankfully the cab driver seemed onboard when Neil handed over a few quid upfront.

The first few routes didn’t pan out. Neil had stopped by a few places to check around for Chris' car but nothing came of it. There was a few abandoned buildings along one of the side roads to Chris’ flat, and Neil really didn't want to go into such a squalid place - but he couldn't give up until he'd checked all possible leads. 

After handing over another tenner, Neil asked the driver swing back round and implored him to stay as long as he could - Neil could hardly imagine the horrors that awaited inside of this place. The last thing he wanted was to be fleeing down the street in search for a phone box. The driver agreed to wait for about ten minutes before he headed out, and Neil thanked him profusely before heading to the front door. 

Rats screeched angrily as Neil inched himself inside, clutching a handkerchief to his face to block out the smell. The place was absolutely vile but clearly home to numerous squatters. It was a horrible thought, but Neil wondered if they served as an easy source of food for Chris. The place was incredibly close to his apartment, and no one would miss these people if they died. That was enough of a reason for Neil to keep looking around for a while longer. 

He found a staircase after some time and made his way up, a little panicked at the way they creaked under with his weight. There were rows of rooms on either side of a long hallway, and Neil had only gone through about half of them before he realized his ten minutes were up. Cursing, Neil rushed back out to pay the driver another £20 and explained it shouldn't be too much longer. 

Most of the rooms just housed a few vagrants, all of them drunk or asleep. The few that would talk him shrugged when Neil asked about Chris or shouted at him to piss off. None seemed particularly violent, thankfully, and Neil resolutely headed up to the second floor. As he pushed open the nearest door, Neil’s heart raced to see a familiar leather jacket wrapped around a small, hunched over figure. “Chris? Is that you?” Neil called out, hesitant. There was no light up here and the windows were boarded over so it was hard to tell from the doorway. 

Neil inched in closer when there was no response, and his eyes watered from the smell. This place was _awful_. Surely there had to have been a better place to feed than this, god. “Chris? Chris, it’s me. Can you hear me?” Neil leaned in and was relieved to see Chris' profile, hidden under his cap. Neil tried to pull him upright to no avail - he just wasn't strong enough. “Chris, I can’t carry you. You have to get up, we have to get you home.” 

Neil meant back to _his_ home, but that wasn’t important right now. At a loss, he thought over what he could do to get Chris to wake up because - well. Neil couldn’t exactly get the cab driver to come help him, and he couldn't exactly call an ambulance or something. Chris probably needed blood to get moving though - and Neil was the only willing volunteer available right then. He glanced around for something to safely cut himself with, but that quickly proved to not be an option, not unless he wanted a disease to go along with it. 

“Fuck,” Neil said, beyond frustrated. He couldn’t risk getting himself killed trying to save Chris, as romantic as that might sound - _wait_. A realization hit Neil, and he bit at his lower lip with all his strength, glad they were already quite dry. He tasted a small amount of blood after a moment and wiped at it with his finger. It wasn’t much but perhaps it’d be enough. “Chris? I’m sorry, I’m not sure if this is appropriate, but I promise I’m not trying to do anything untoward.” 

Neil pushed his finger between Chris’ lips and wiped the blood on his tongue. Nothing. So Neil tried a few more times before he impatiently just pressed their mouths together, kissing him a little. Chris suddenly tensed and Neil pulled back to see his eyes were wide open, his brows scrunched together uncertainty. “‘S’it already time to get up?” Chris mumbled. “Didn’t think it was already time to get up.” 

“Chris, it’s Neil. Are you okay?” The answer was self-evident, of course, but Neil couldn’t stop himself from asking. Chris just shrugged at him and closed his eyes. Neil shook him again but Chris just stubbornly sat there, entirely unperturbed. “Come on, Chris. Wake up, _wake up_. We’ve got to go. We can’t stay here.” 

“Is my bloody flat, ‘m allowed to be here,” Chris said with a frustrated shove and Neil grabbed his hand, trying to be patient. “Why’re ye here anyway? Who let ye in?” 

“We’re not in your room, Chris - I’ve got no idea where we are frankly, but I’d like to leave as soon as possible. I’ve a cab downstairs waiting for us. Can you get up?” 

“If it’ll bloody shut ye up,” Chris griped, and Neil tugged him up at long last. The walk back was absolutely treacherous - Chris couldn’t hold himself upright very well, and Neil wasn’t strong enough for him to lean on. It had to have taken them nearly twenty minutes to get the front door, but thankfully the cab driver hadn’t given up and left.

“Alright, here we are,” Neil said, slightly out of breath, as he helped Chris get into the backseat. Chris wasn’t actively working against him anymore which greatly helped out. “Back to my place please.” 

“By the looks of him, I think he’s better off at the A&E,” the driver said, his eyebrow lifted dubiously as Chris almost slid off the seat. While a blood transfusion probably _would_ greatly help out, Neil couldn’t mention that Chris was technically no longer among the living and, thus, not covered by the NHS (and even if he had private insurance, vampirism would undoubtedly be a pre-existing condition). 

“Just back to my place is fine,” Neil replied after some thought. The driver just shrugged and started back down the road without further complaint. Chris was leaned against him, hiding from the sun with an incredibly unhappy look on his face, so Neil hummed a little of the Bananarama song Chris had been playing over and over during their last few phone calls. _Mm...mm. He used to be a shy boy. Until I made him my boy. I never missed a heartbeat...just sitting in the back seat._

Neil paid the driver extra when they got back, thanked him again, and dragged Chris to the front door - he had waned a bit and didn't seem as able to get his footing unfortunately. They managed to make it to Neil's couch though, and he pushed Chris onto it with an exhausted shove. He was really going to have to start working out at some point. “M’tired. Gonna head back to sleep now,” Chris mumbled. 

“Just try to stay with me for a moment,” Neil said, patting Chris’ face a few times. Next steps. What were the next steps? Neil didn’t think a run to the butcher’s would be of any use - he didn’t even know if Chris could drink anything other than human blood. So he’d have to figure something else out. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” 

Neil walked to the kitchen and looked around for a moment. Chris couldn’t bite him so he’d have to make a cut of some kind - a paring knife would probably work okay, though he'd have to boil some water to sterilize it first. Afterward, Neil made his way to the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of isopropyl, some bandages, and a towel. 

Chris had slumped over onto the cushions when Neil got back - his eyes were shut despite Neil urging him to stay awake. Sighing, Neil sat next to him and helped him sit up some. Where would be the best place to nick himself? The neck would be too difficult, even if that was the traditional place vampires fed, so the arm would probably be the next best option. His wrist, maybe? Neil had no idea. “ _Oh_! My palm, right,” Neil whispered to himself. There'd definitely be no risks cutting his palm, right?

Taking a deep breath, Neil picked up the knife and carefully slid it across his hand - thick rivulets of blood bubbled out and made him feel a little woozy, but he managed to hold his hand up to Chris’ mouth before he thought too much about it. Most of the blood ended up on Chris’ chin, unfortunately, but Neil could help clean him up later - he just needed Chris to _wake up_. 

Which didn’t seem to be happening at first, but after a few minutes Chris made a soft rumbling noise - close to how a feline might purr. Neil wasn’t sure what to make of it, but it definitely made something inside of him feel tight and warm, extremely curious as to other sounds vampire might be capable of making given the right provocation. “Neil? Why’re we at yer place?” Chris mumbled, yawning a bit. “God, m’so bloody _tired_.” 

“You’ve had a long day,” Neil said, trying not to laugh with how relieved he felt. Chris sighed and looked over at him with the slightest bit of awareness creeping back into his expression. That restless energy started to surge back into his extremities, and Neil had to put a steadying hand on his knee. “And I was worried about you so I brought you round to mine. I hope you don’t mind.” 

“Oh, I always love being with ye. That’s never a hardship -” Chris paused as his gaze landed on Neil’s hand, roughly tugging on Neil's wrist to get a closer look at the wound. Neil tried to reach for the towel, to stop blood from getting everywhere, but Chris irritably knocked it away. “Wha’ happen to ye? Are ye alright?” 

Neil was taken aback by Chris’ concern - he’d just been missing for nearly a week, and now he was worried that Neil had cut himself? It was a struggle to think of an answer that didn’t sound absurd. “I’m fine, see?” Neil whispered. He picked up the towel and pressed it against the cut, flinching a bit - the wound was definitely deeper than he first realized. 

“I -” Chris paused but Neil could tell he’d not nodded off again from his incessant shifting around. “Bloody hell, ‘m sorry. Neil, I…”

“It’s alright,” Neil said, and he meant it. Chris was here, not necessarily alive but not gone from this world, and that’s what mattered to him. “It’s gonna be alright now. You don’t need to be sorry for anything.” 

“I’d gotten so tired, I stopped for something to eat, and I...I just got so _tired_ ,” Chris whispered. He pressed his face into Neil’s hair, and Neil scooted in closer. He’d missed Chris’ voice terribly. It frightened him to imagine not ever hearing it again. “I must have sat down for a minute and...not gotten back up, I s’ppose.”

“You shouldn’t have visited me during the day. That was selfish of me.” Neil dug the towel into his hand and let himself feel the sting for a while. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m glad I found you, and that you’re alright. That’s all.” 

“Ye bloody well couldn’t have _stopped_ me from visitin’ ye,” Chris retorted and reached for the isopropyl, briefly looking at it before he set it down again. “Worked on makin’ those sandwiches for hours that mornin’ - I can’t cook to save me bloody life, y’know? Here, gimme yer hand.” 

Neil peeled the towel away, grimacing at the mess, but Chris tugged his hand up without the slightest hesitation, dragging his tongue along each of Neil’s fingers. “What -?” Chris didn’t seem interested in explaining himself though - just worked his tongue further down and licked right over the wound, cleaning up any traces of blood left behind. Neil struggled to process all the emotions that made him feel with little success. “O-oh...thank you, um.” 

Just like before, the cut began to fade away in a matter of seconds - as fast as a flip book cartoon. “Neat trick, huh?” Chris said, quite pleased with himself. Neil agreed that it did seem useful, though he wondered how far those curative abilities went. Did it just work on cuts? Could it cure disease or infection? He’d have to ask later. “Was I out long?” 

“About a week,” Neil answered, still staring at his hand. There wasn’t even a scar there, nothing to show that he’d just sliced his hand open to save Chris’ life (unlife?). Neil contemplated that for a while. Hm. “Oh, we’ll need to give your roommates a ring, as well. I promised if I heard from you I’d let them know. Um, Peter? Peter said he was quite worried about you a number of times.” 

“Bloody well worried I’d not done the dishes I bet,” Chris grumbled but Neil could sense a fondness there. Neil wanted to ask how close he was to Peter, if there was anything more between them, but that didn’t seem appropriate right now. “How’d you even find me?”

Neil dug through his coat pockets to get out the map - he’d not had a chance to take it off since he’d brought Chris inside - and handed it over to him. "Just some deductive logic. See? You live quite close to the Smash Hits office, closer than me actually! So I just reasoned that you had to have been nearby...if you hadn’t up and left London altogether, that is.” Neil couldn’t admit how much he had worried about that possibility. He had been so afraid that Chris had just tired of him and went back to Blackpool without saying anything. 

Chris was quiet for a long while as he studied the map, glancing up at Neil once in awhile with an odd expression, but Neil wasn’t sure what else to say - it wasn’t like he’d done anything particularly difficult or impressive. “Thank ye,” Chris murmured, and his voice sounded somewhat strained. 

Neil glanced up to make sure he wasn’t nodding off again only to feel Chris’ lips against his own, soft and warm. It wasn’t the best kiss they had ever shared - there was the tang of blood and the general unpleasantness from Chris not having brushed his teeth in so long (...did vampires brush their fangs?), but Neil wasn’t about to pull away. He cupped the back of Chris’ neck and worked to get their tongues to meet comfortably, sighing as another surge of relief went through him - Chris was alright. Chris was here, and he was totally fine. 

“This is...this is nice, but you could probably do with a shower - that place was absolutely vile, and I can smell it on you,” Neil whispered as he pulled back to catch his breath, their foreheads still pressed together to minimize the distance between them. A few tears were threatening to escape, but Neil blinked them away because... _Chris was okay_. “I can lend you a fresh set of clothes until you’re back at your flat.” 

Chris nodded and followed Neil to the bedroom. Predictably, Chris honed in on the synth as soon as it was in sight so Neil decided to get the shower going for him. Neil usually preferred hotter showers, it left him feeling cleaner somehow, but he wasn’t sure what someone with no regular body temperature would like best. He decided on modestly warm in the end and set a towel out for him. 

“It’s ready,” Neil called as he walked out, but Chris seemed unwilling to move from the synthesizer. He was playing something slow and somber. It was beautiful. It made Neil think of rainy days and the comfort of home. Swaying a little, Neil walked over to gently press a kiss into Chris’ hair in appreciation, shutting his eyes to listen closer. His fingers itched to put words to paper: _He is the head boy of the school of thought, that plays in your intentions, night and day. You wait 'till later, 'till later tonight._

Chris’ fingers stilled after a minute and Neil tugged him close. “That was good, huh?” 

“Yeah…” Neil whispered, pressing another kiss into his hair. “Now come on, young man. You’ve a shower getting cold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Shy Boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kXro-Gi4b8) by Bananarama
> 
> [Chris mentions liking Bananarama in PSB's yearly publication, Annually, in 1989.](http://psb-atdeadofnight.net/neil_chris/e_chris_fav.php)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. My goodness this took so long. More editing, as usual, will be done soon. I am a tired ghost. But am so glad to have this done. Enjoy <3

Neil decided to use a few days vacation just to give himself time to recuperate. There were a few cross phone calls about upcoming deadlines Neil was meant to meet, but he told them all to call back next week - he had too many other grave and serious matters on his mind. Like what love meant in relation to vampires. 

That weighed heavily on Neil’s mind between bouts of insomnia. Every few hours Neil would wake up, worried, and call Chris to check in on him. His roommates didn’t even bother to pick up the phone anymore. Neil just hoped that none of them had particularly urgent calls of their own to make. 

Eventually Chris agreed to come stay the night just to convince Neil everything was okay. That improved Neil’s mood considerably, and he spent the whole day cleaning the house, just to be sure everything was in order. Chris had promised not to leave any earlier than sundown to be on the safe side. Neil wasn’t taking any chances. 

After some thought, Neil also decided to try his hand at preparing dinner for them - albeit cooking was an art he was still striving to perfect. Most days he struggled to make anything other than eggs and toast. So he flipped through a few of his cookbooks and decided on a simple stir fry that required little other than a trip to the greengrocer for some vegetables and rice. Plus, a simpler meal would probably be better for Chris anyways. 

The doorbell rang at half past six, and Neil had just got the rice on. As always, Chris rang about three more times before Neil was able to swing it open with a chagrined expression. “Chris, I’m perfectly able to hear the door at the first press of the bell. You needn’t slam on it like that.” 

Chris shrugged and shuffled inside with a backpack - something he’d probably used at university, Neil thought with a touch of melancholy. All those years put into a degree only to end up dying before he could complete it. “Oh, that smells nice. What’re you makin’?” Chris asked as he sat his bag down on the couch. “I brought some movies with me - thought we could make it a proper night in.” 

“Oh, I’ll have to run and get some wine then,” Neil said as he went for his coat. “It’s just rice and veggies - I hope that’ll be alright with you. Would you mind the hob while I’m gone? It shouldn’t be but a minute.” 

“Not worried I might vanish the second ye leave?” Chris teased, and Neil rolled his eyes in response, entirely unimpressed. “You don’t need me to come with ye and all? So ye can keep an eye on me?” 

“Hush,” Neil said and made his way to the corner store. The wine selection there was atrocious - Neil wasn’t sure how he’d forgotten, honestly - so he walked a bit further to the off license to pick up some proper Pinot Noir. He initially got two bottles but went back for a third...along with a bottle of Merlot. That'd probably be enough.

When he got back, Chris wasn’t in the kitchen like Neil had asked, and it certainly didn’t take long for Neil to find out he was in the bedroom, tinkering with the synthesizer. Thankfully the rice hadn’t burnt so Neil held off on throwing a strop and focused on sauteing the vegetables instead.

Chris walked in after a while and looked over the wine selection, humming the tune he’d just played under his breath. “Glasses?” Neil pointed to where they were with the end of his spoon and shook the pan a little, disappointed to see the vegetables were cooking a little unevenly. “You write lyrics, yeah?” 

“Mm?” Neil asked, distracted with pushing the onions around. He should have put them in first since they took longer to brown, but he was pretty sure he could still make this work - if not, well. There was always toast, right? “Oh, lyrics. Yes. I write just about everything, I suppose.” 

“Think we could write a song together?” 

Neil looked up at that, a little taken aback. A song? That seemed outlandish - a music journalist turned proper musician. He’d never be taken seriously. Still, Neil couldn’t deny the idea intrigued him. “Perhaps. I’m not sure I’ve written anything that would live up to your skills on the keyboard, really.”

Chris snorted so hard Neil worried wine would spray out of his nose. “Me? I hardly know a thing about anything. ‘M just noodling about most of the time.” Neil couldn’t believe that. Everything Chris played sounded incredible. Neil was certain that none of his lyrics could live up to Chris’ talent - and not just because Neil didn’t have confidence in himself. “Yer the one with the big brain and the big words - ‘m just ridin’ off your snappy coattails, aren’t I?” 

Neil blushed at the compliment and whispered a quiet ‘ _thank you_ ’ as he finished up their dinner. Chris helped get the plates out for them, and Neil made sure that Chris’ portion wasn’t too big. When he noticed, Chris flashed a shy smile at him and poured himself another glass of wine. He was already on his third, Neil noticed, and he hoped he'd not have to make another run to the off license after dinner. 

Sat close at the dinner table, they ate and chatted about their day. Chris had been more careful about going out to feed, and Neil kept himself from desperately asking about who he’d fed from - if they were just casual encounters or something more heate. All that mattered was that Chris was taking care of himself. Jealousy didn’t have any part in his well-being.

Once they finished, they cleaned up the kitchen and went into the living room with the Merlot. Chris had brought over a half dozen movies to choose from, gesturing for Neil to take his pick once he'd dumped them on the coffee table. Neil decided on _Alfie_ as they’d both already seen it so there were no worries about talking over it. Chris busied himself with getting the TV set up and Neil went to get a blanket from the bedroom. Chris had definitely not fed from anyone too recently, at least - his skin was ice cold.

After a few more glasses of wine, Neil was starting to feel the effects and spent more time admiring Chris’ profile than looking at the screen. Chris kept making stupid faces at him when he caught Neil staring but he couldn’t help himself. The idea that someone as handsome and talented as Chris would want to know him, want to date him, want to make _music_ with him, even, was still so beyond his comprehension. He could be with anyone, surely. Why _him_? Neil was cripplingly shy and always miles away in his own head, he was strongly opinionated on anything worth having an opinion on, and he was hardly the most attractive man around. 

“Neil -” Chris looked like he could be blushing if he had a pulse, and Neil glanced down at his lap, rubbing his thumb along the woolen throw. It was hardly enough to hold back the chill. He’d broken out in goose pimples several times over. “Bloody well not watched a bit of this movie, have ye?” 

Neil shrugged and watched as Chris began to giggle like mad. He wanted to ask what was so funny, but then their lips met in a heated kiss, making everything in Neil’s head crash to a stop. He cupped Chris’ face with one hand and tugged on his hoodie with the other, moaning soft as their tongues met. An idea sprang into Neil’s head as he began to shiver - one that obsessively spun around his mind until he felt the words tumble out, his tongue tripping over itself as his cheeks flushed with shame: _Bite me, please. Please._

“Ye mean proper like?” Chris murmured, leaning back a little. Neil could barely get himself to nod, far too ashamed of himself for having asked, and squeezed his eyes shut when Chris pressed their foreheads together, not wanting to look him in the eyes. They had started to take on that brilliant gold hue, beautiful as the morning sun. “Ye sure you want that? ‘M not hard up or nothin’.” 

“Y-yes. Yes,” Neil whispered and tried to get himself to breathe. Chris kissed him again, distracted him with the push and pull of their mouths, and Neil lost himself in it for a while. A moan slipped from him when Chris’ fingers slid under his shirt and brushed across his stomach, catching the wiry hairs with his fingernails. 

Chris slid his mouth across Neil’s jaw, up and up, until his tongue wrapped around Neil’s earlobe. Neil was almost painfully hard as Chris began to suck it between his teeth and let out a soft cry of pleasure as Chris scratched a nail over his nipple, heightening the ecstasy. It was too much. Neil was going to come if they didn’t slow down. 

“I can’t - _I can’t_ ,” Neil gasped as he pulled back, sinking into the couch. Chris let him rest for a moment before he tugged them up and walked them towards the bedroom. _Right_ , that would be far more appropriate for these kinds of activities. Neil had hardly got the blood out from the cushions last time. Anything more salacious than that would be nothing short of disaster. 

Chris got them mostly undressed along the way, got Neil's glasses on the nightstand. Neil struggled with his socks, but Chris was able to peel them off with his far more dexterous fingers in a matter of seconds. The underwear was a different matter - Neil couldn’t keep them on, obviously, but he feared what would happen if Chris didn’t like what he saw. 

“Y’okay?” Chris asked. His voice was soft with concern, and Neil pressed his face into his shoulder, willing himself to calm down. They had gotten this far. He couldn’t turn back now. “Talk to me, Neil.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m just frightened. I’ve never - I mean, I _have_ just not…” Neil didn’t want to say ‘with someone I actually find attractive' because that wasn't true. Neil had enjoyed the sex he’d had with women. It’d never been awful or anything, but it had never been exactly what he wanted. Now everything he desired was right here, ready to go, and his own self-doubt was going to ruin it all. “I’m being silly. Don’t mind me.” 

Chris’ lips were on his again, and Neil sought out the comfort it gave him. He let himself feel how much Chris wanted him, _needed_ him - the touch of their tongues a silent reassurance that finally had Neil wriggling them down his hips and onto the floor. “‘S all about what ye like, what ye want. Ye just tell me if anything’s too much for ye, okay?” Chris whispered, and Neil clutched him tighter in appreciation. 

They rocked together for a while as they kissed, and Chris let his lips trail along Neil’s neck. That perverse desire flared up in Neil again, tilting his head back willingly for the press of Chris’ fangs, but Chris’ mouth had already moved on, kissing wetly along Neil’s shoulder. Despite the slight rush of disappointment, Neil’s cock was still throbbing with excitement - he loved being pinned under Chris like this, being completely in his thrall. 

Then Neil noticed Chris’ lips were trailing down his chest, slow enough that he could stop him, but Neil couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. “ _Chris_ -” Neil’s lips parted in a gasp as he felt Chris’ tongue drag down the vee of his hips and over his balls, mouthing at them before he sucked one in. The feeling was indescribable. No woman had wanted to try this with him. Women seemed to prefer having Neil’s tongue on them instead, which was fine, but fuck - _fuck_ , this was incredible. 

Without warning, Chris ducked down to kiss at Neil’s inner thighs and Neil jumped as one of Chris’ fangs gently pierced the skin. Arousal blossomed out from that spot like a seismic wave. Neil was going to come soon. _Very_ soon. There was no way he could last much longer. “Helps warm me mouth up,” Chris said by way of explanation, as if Neil even needed one, and his tongue was lapping at the small drops of blood before they licked back up to his balls. 

Neil’s eyes squeezed shut with pleasure - there was now a searing heat along with the wet touch of Chris’ tongue, and Neil grabbed at his shoulder to steady himself. Precome was dripping out of him profusely, slicking his belly, but he didn’t want this to end. He never wanted Chris to stop, not ever. 

“Oh _god_.” Neil almost screamed, maybe even _did_ scream, as Chris’ mouth dragged up his cock and wrapped around his tip. That warm tongue was now flicking at his slit, rubbing him in all manner of inexplicable ways. Neil canted his hips up, desperate for more, but Chris would just pull back and grin up at him with a wry smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, but I think -” 

Neil’s back bowed up from the bed as his orgasm hit. A deep, trembling noise of pleasure rumbled from Chris’ throat, like when he’d woken up that terrible afternoon, and Neil could hear him swallowing hungrily - his hand pulling at Neil’s shaft in a blur, his own hips pushing into the bed as if he was somehow just as aroused as Neil by all this.

“Taste so bloody good, ye do,” Chris gasped as he wrenched his head back, and he looked an absolute state. Blood and spit dripped down his chin, his eyes flashing dangerously - still a deep warm gold. Neil could hardly think, much less talk, but he pulled at Chris’ shoulder desperately, needing to touch him. 

Chris slid up willingly and Neil clung to him as Chris shoved his hips down along his stomach. Humid breath drifted down his cheek, over his ear, and Chris slowly came to a stop over his neck. “ _Please_ ,” Neil moaned, tilting his head back again in invitation. “I want you to. Please, _please_ , Chris.” 

There was a moment of aching stillness, Chris just nuzzling into him with a gentle sigh, before Neil felt the sharp, stinging pain of his fangs sinking in. In mere seconds, Neil’s entire world went white. Pleasure screamed through his every vein, hot as a branding iron, and Neil wasn’t sure where he ended and Chris began - if there was a difference anymore. He could feel the splash of Chris’ come on his chest, he could feel his own cock straining to harden again, he thought he could feel the very spin of the Earth under them. 

Neil sobbed as Chris pulled away, tears spilling down his face from how everything was suddenly just _too much_ , and Chris was trying to soothe him, trying to comfort him - but Neil couldn’t seem to calm down. A part of him hadn’t wanted Chris to stop. It wasn’t like him at all, but Neil wasn’t sure what that even meant anymore. Prior to meeting Chris, Neil believed himself a heterosexual man with a promising career in journalism. Was any of that true now? 

“Yer alright, Neil. S’all alright,” Chris whispered, and Neil turned to the sound of his voice, blindly seeking his lips. They tasted like blood, _his_ blood, but Neil kissed him anyways, took refuge in the touch of their tongues. Neil finally felt the inevitable crash of exhaustion, the adrenaline slowing down. “Gimme just a sec. I’ll get something to clean us up.” 

The loss of Chris’ warmth made Neil a bit distressed, but he was back just as quickly with a warm flannel. He wiped away all the snot and the tears before he washed off Neil’s stomach and groin, cheekily tugging Neil’s shaft. Neil nearly kicked him - which would serve him right, really. “Thank you,” Neil whispered as Chris got them under the blankets, wrapped them tightly together. “For everything.” 

“No need,” Chris replied quietly before he tucked his head into Neil’s shoulder. Neil wanted to argue that wasn’t true, but he was just too tired to manage it. It’d take far too long, and Neil was sure Chris wouldn’t listen to him anyways. “Was that...are ye alright?” 

“I’m -” Neil thought about that for a moment and decided to go with the first answer that came to mind. “I’m certain that when I’m with you it’d be impossible for me to feel anything other than alright.” 

The blood in Chris allowed Neil to feel him blush. Neil held onto him the slightest bit tighter, eyes fluttering closed. “I’m glad to have met ye, Neil. You make me feel like I’m alive again - like I’ve something to live for.” 

“Chris -”

“I’m not afraid to say I love ye, because I do,” Chris whispered, and Neil felt his chest tighten. He was hardly able to admit it to himself, but Neil was sure he loved him, too - he hoped Chris could sense that, hoped that Chris would be patient with him until he could echo the sentiment back. “And the sex is bloody brilliant, too.” 

Neil laughed, breathless and soft, before whispering a quiet good night into Chris’ cheek and lapsing into a blissful sleep.


End file.
